19: Chapter 19 Free Food Tasting for the Entire School! The Crushing of the Profit Chain

Fang Jiming walked out of the Vice Principal's office. The setting sun in the hallway shone right onto his face, warming him enough to make him squint.

He was in no hurry to leave.

Standing by the window in the fourth-floor hallway for a moment, he pulled out his phone to review the reply from The Foundation's contact person. After confirming that all procedures had been initiated, he slowly tucked his phone back into his pocket.

The noisy sounds of students leaving school drifted up from below—bicycle bells mixed with laughter and playful shouting—causing the entire teaching building to vibrate.

As Fang Jiming walked downstairs, he was doing the math in his head.

Today's thirty thousand was just testing the waters; next week's five hundred thousand would be the full-scale offensive. If he wanted to completely pull out the rotten tooth that was the No. 19 Middle School Cafeteria, he would need to allocate more budget later.

Money was absolutely not the problem.

The problem was how to spend it well—spend it in a way that no one could find fault with, and in a way that left Vice Principal Sun Yaozu without even an angle to curse from.

Fang Jiming: ( σ ` д ′ ) σ Making money is easy, but spending it is hard. Being a teacher really is a headache.

When he reached the second floor, he ran into the Physics teacher, Old Liu.

Old Liu was in his early fifties, his hair so sparse it could be described as a lightbulb. He wore a faded short-sleeved shirt and had a stack of test papers tucked under his arm. He paused for a moment when he saw Fang Jiming.

"Mr. Fang?"

"Hello, Teacher Liu."

Old Liu leaned in and lowered his voice. After glancing left and right to confirm there was no one else in the hallway, he spoke softly.

"I heard you just came out of the office of Vice Principal Sun Yaozu?"

"Yes, we chatted for a bit."

"What did you talk about?"

"He didn't give you a hard time, did he?"

"No, Principal Sun was very polite to me."

When Fang Jiming said this, he wore an exceptionally sincere smile—so sincere that Old Liu didn't believe it for a second.

Fang Jiming: ( ￣ ∀ ￣ )

Old Liu stared at his expression for three seconds, then finally shook his head and didn't press further. He continued downstairs with the test papers under his arm, but after seven or eight steps, he turned back and dropped a line.

"Mr. Fang, be careful. That man, Vice Principal Sun Yaozu, holds grudges."

"Thank you, Teacher Liu. I'll keep that in mind."

Fang Jiming nodded at his retreating back.

Old Liu was a good man. He had been at No. 19 Middle School for over twenty years; though his passion had been worn away, his conscience remained.

Fang Jiming took note of this man.

When he reached the first-floor lobby, someone was walking straight toward him.

Director He Rencai.

The Academic Affairs Office Director, Director He Rencai, hadn't been out of the Vice Principal's office for long. Having likely been scolded by Vice Principal Sun Yaozu, his expression had escalated from 'stomach cramps' to 'pain of having one's kidney forcibly removed.' He paused noticeably when he saw Fang Jiming.

The two of them stopped face-to-face in the center of the first-floor lobby.

Director He Rencai cleared his throat.

"Teacher Fang, Principal Sun asked me to tell you that regarding that Foundation project next week, you'd better report the specific plan to the school in advance."

"Alright, Director He. I was just about to find you to talk about this."

Director He Rencai's eyebrows twitched.

"Talk about what?"

Fang Jiming pulled his hands out of his pockets, spread them in front of him, and struck a helpless pose.

"Director He, The Foundation just replied to me. They said No. 19 Middle School is their key assistance target this year. Next week, they are going to provide a free three-day high-end lunch experience for all teachers and students—not just Class 18, but the whole school."

Director He Rencai's expression changed.

"The whole school?"

"Yes, the whole school."

Fang Jiming counted on his fingers for him.

"From the first year to the third year of high school, there are thirty-two classes in total. Adding the teachers and administrative staff, that's about fourteen hundred people. The Foundation is budgeting based on a standard of one hundred yuan per meal per person. Over three days, that's a budget of over four hundred thousand, and they are covering it all."

Director He Rencai: ( ° Д ° )

His mouth opened and closed again, his Adam's apple bobbing twice as if he had swallowed a piece of burning coal.

"Over four hundred thousand?"

"Free?"

"It's free."

"It's a charity project. The company has a corporate social responsibility budget they need to spend, so it would be a waste not to."

Fang Jiming spread his hands, his expression as innocent as a primary school student who had just found money.

"So, I'm reporting to Director He that during the lunch hours from next Monday to Wednesday, the Cafeteria needs to temporarily clear out space for The Foundation's meal delivery vehicles. After all, the delivery volume for over a thousand people is quite large."

Director He Rencai's complexion had escalated to the level of a perforated stomach ulcer.

The Cafeteria temporarily clearing out space.

Translating that into plain language meant Zhao Guangming's Cafeteria would be closed for three days next week.

Director He Rencai's brain raced for five seconds, leading to a conclusion that made him break into a cold sweat.

He couldn't stop this.

If this was truly a legitimate charity project from a formal foundation, with complete authorization documents and food safety filings, then any attempt to block it would be equivalent to rejecting a charitable donation from society.

If that label were pinned on him, let alone a mere Academic Affairs Office Director, even Vice Principal Sun Yaozu himself wouldn't be able to bear it.

"I need to report this to Principal Sun."

Director He Rencai's voice was weak.

"Feel free to do so. However, I suggest you hurry. The Foundation said the meal plan needs to be finalized the day after tomorrow, and the sooner the venue coordination is done, the better."

Fang Jiming patted Director He Rencai on the shoulder, using just the right amount of pressure, as if comforting a high school senior terrified by final exams.

"Thank you for your hard work, Director He."

After saying this, he turned and left, the sound of his canvas shoes on the concrete floor so light and cheerful that it made one want to punch him.

Director He Rencai stood there watching his back disappear outside the main gate, the file folder in his hand nearly dropping to the floor.

Three minutes later, he appeared at the door of the Vice Principal's office, his hand trembling as he knocked.

"Enter."

Director He Rencai pushed the door open to see Vice Principal Sun Yaozu reviewing documents with a red pen, his face so gloomy it could wring out water.

"Principal Sun, Fang Jiming just told me something."

"What is it?"

Director He Rencai swallowed hard.

"The Foundation wants to provide free lunch to all teachers and students for three days—fourteen hundred people, at a standard of one hundred yuan per meal. The entire budget of over four hundred thousand is being covered by them."

The red pen stopped moving.

Vice Principal Sun Yaozu looked up, his gaze landing on Director He Rencai's face. He paused for a full four seconds without speaking.

Then, he slowly placed the red pen on the desk.

Director He Rencai noticed that when the pen was set down, the tip poked into the document, leaving a small hole.

"The whole school?"

"The whole school."

"Free?"

"Free."

Vice Principal Sun Yaozu leaned back in his leather chair, his right index finger beginning to tap on the armrest, the rhythm faster than before.

He was thinking about one thing.

If all fourteen hundred teachers and students in the school ate free high-end lunches next week, Zhao Guangming's Cafeteria having zero revenue for three days was only a small matter; the bigger trouble was yet to come.

Everyone would know that No. 19 Middle School had a charitable enterprise helping them out.

Everyone would compare this free hundred-yuan meal with the eight-yuan-fifty Cafeteria food from Zhao Guangming.

Everyone would ask why the usual Cafeteria quality was so poor.

The three days of free lunch weren't about feeding the students; this was purely about digging up the roots of Vice Principal Sun Yaozu.

He stood up and walked to the window. The setting sun had completely disappeared; the playground was empty, and the rusted basketball hoop stood askew in the twilight.

Director He Rencai shrank by the door, not daring to make a sound.

After a long while, Vice Principal Sun Yaozu spoke, his voice hoarse.

"Go tell Zhao Guangming to prepare to close for three days next week."

Director He Rencai: ( ꐦ ° д ° )

"Principal Sun, are we just going to let it go like this?"

"What else?"

Vice Principal Sun Yaozu turned around to look at Director He Rencai, his lips twitching.

"Are you going to stop it?"

"In what name would you stop it?"

"If word gets out that we refused a donation from a charitable enterprise, once it reaches the Education Bureau, Bureau Chief Feng Guodong would have me dismissed the very next day."

Director He Rencai's mouth opened and closed again.

He stood at the door, looking at Vice Principal Sun Yaozu's profile, and felt that the Vice Principal had aged ten years today.

Vice Principal Sun Yaozu turned back to look out the window, his speaking speed slowing down.

"Go. Tell Zhao Guangming to keep his mouth shut and not to gossip everywhere."

Director He Rencai bowed his body and backed out of the office.

After the door closed, Vice Principal Sun Yaozu stood by the window for a long time.

He was pondering who exactly was standing behind Fang Jiming.

A substitute teacher with a monthly salary of three thousand seven hundred paying thirty thousand out of his own pocket to treat students to a meal was one thing; being able to mobilize a formal charity foundation to provide over four hundred thousand worth of free lunches for fourteen hundred people in the school was another.

Putting these two things together, it was far beyond the scope of power of a fresh graduate.

Vice Principal Sun Yaozu's index finger traced lightly on the glass window, leaving a mark.

Having been at No. 19 Middle School for fourteen years, among all the young people he had seen, not one had managed to make him lose two games in a row within the first week.

However, he had also seen everyone who had ever won against him eventually disappear from No. 19 Middle School.

Fang Jiming would be no exception.

Vice Principal Sun Yaozu: ( ￢ _ ￢ )

Meanwhile, outside the school gate.

Fang Jiming got on a shared bike and pedaled twice when his phone vibrated with a notification.

The Foundation's contact person sent a message.

[Mr. Fang, the first draft of the school-wide meal plan is complete. The menu covers three rotating tiers: Cantonese roasted meats, Japanese cuisine, and Sichuan stir-fries. Food safety testing has been scheduled with a third-party agency, and all documents are expected to be ready the day after tomorrow. Additionally, the number of meal delivery vehicles needs to be increased to eight. Is it convenient for you to coordinate the venue?]

Fang Jiming typed with one hand.

[The venue is no problem; the Cafeteria owner has already agreed to rest for three days. Add a dessert to the menu—the students love sweets. Increase the budget to five hundred thousand. Use the extra portion to buy a batch of insulated lunch boxes to give to the students as gifts.]

[Received, I will adjust it immediately.]

Fang Jiming locked his screen and pedaled the shared bike, disappearing into the twilight of Qiaonan Old Street, the sound of the wheels rolling over the bumpy concrete road echoing.

Fang Jiming: ( • ̀ ᴗ • ́ ) The second phase of the "Money Power" education method is in full bloom.